


Cloister Bells

by Drabriel



Series: Metas, headcanons and oneshots [1]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: A meta of sorts, Looms, PTSD, Time War, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 14:45:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13320381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drabriel/pseuds/Drabriel
Summary: The Master experiences a series of nightmares and triggers relating to his time in the Time War. The Doctor tries to comfort him.





	Cloister Bells

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this ages ago, posted once on tumblr through a dw fic blog, blog got deleted so I'm posting it here. Betaed by @Natalunasans when it was written.

_“No, no, no, NO! Don’t do this, not now, just hang on!” Alarms were flaring, warning lamps blinking rapidly and the heavy sound of the cloister bell could just about be heard over the sound of the TARDIS crashing. No, not crashing, it was hurtling towards a supernova and there was nothing the Master could do. The space and time vessel refused to re-enter the vortex, and there was a fleet of daleks surrounding him just out of reach of the supernova that was coming closer every second._  
_It was getting hot now, more alarms went off and the poor pilot could only hold on tight as he was falling to a certain death. Had it only been that simple. Had it only been death that awaited him, it would’ve been the sweetest relief, a promise of peace. “Not again…” The Master begged in a whisper, hearts filled with fright as he knew it was only moments left. The last thing he heard was the cloister bells chiming and the TARDIS doors being ripped away. Then it went black._

The Master awoke with a shout, drenched in sweat and hearts beating rapidly. It was dark, he was alone. There was no alarms, no crashing towards a supernova. It had all been a terrible, terrible dream. It took a moment for the Master to realise that, but he soon got a grasp on reality and tried to calm his body that seemed to be in the state of shock. His breath was erratic and senses on high alert as he was debating with himself whether to fight or flee... only there was no real danger.  
Several minutes passed before he could breathe properly and stop shaking. Or it might have been seconds, time didn’t seem to pass normally whenever this happened. That was the third time this week alone he’d had that nightmare. He was grateful it had ended before the worst part came...the thought alone had the Master shuddering in fear. And the knowledge that he, a Time Lord, couldn’t control his own dreams, that he succumbed to such foolish things as nightmares, made him disgusted with himself. Master...Master of what? He wasn’t even Master of his own mind any more. Post-traumatic stress disorder the Doctor called it. Like he was some weak human who could suffer from such things.

“Master?” A voice called, and the door slowly creaked open. A narrow stripe of light shone across the room and made the Master visible to the man outside the door. “I heard-”

“It’s okay, Doctor.” The Master groaned, shutting the other up before he could finish that sentence. It was clear the Doctor wanted to say more, but left it there.

“Need anything?” He asked after a moment had passed. The Master shook his head. It was humiliating, his pride hurt more than anything else. Oh, he knew the Doctor meant well, like he always did, but it seemed yet again that the Doctor failed to just see what the Master needed right now. The Doctor wasn’t his therapist. The Doctor wasn’t one he could simply pour out all his feelings to and hope it’d relieve some of it, no matter how much the Doctor seemed to wish he would.

The Master knew the Doctor hadn’t heard anything. The bedroom the Master slept in was as far away from the console room as it could get on this deck, and the Doctor would hardly be anywhere close this time of day. No, the Doctor felt the distress from his fellow Time Lord. Even while awake the Master could hardly keep his own mind closed. It was seeping out in the air around, it had been ever since...well since his last resurrection. It left him more vulnerable than ever, especially when he was asleep. Which was the reasoning for having his bedroom so far away from where the Doctor usually spent his time. Rassilon knows what the Doctor must have picked up this time, the Master reeked of fear. Of weakness. A smell the Doctor surely couldn’t resist.  
“I’ll be down in a minute.” The Master muttered and let it end with that.

Later that day the Master seemed to be well over that morning’s little scare and he was down in the console room with the Doctor. Of course his old friend was tinkering with his TARDIS, and the Master would hand him tools, give some advice and point out his mistakes from time to time. Some days the Master really wondered if he should be worried for their safety, seeing as the other adjusted as much as he did like if the ship needed constant repairs. They bantered on as always until the Doctor touched a wire he shouldn’t have and one of the alarms went off. It was only a minor alarm, nothing that would threaten their lives. The Doctor of course tried to fix it as soon as it went off, muttering to himself and getting the occasional zap from the wires. Not long after, a second alarm went off. Then a third, then the fourth and every lamp on the console flared while the ship herself shook. The Master ran around the console to try and land the old girl while the Doctor desperately tried get the situation under control. Some insults were thrown between them but oddly little came from the Master this time around.

That was when the cloister bell finally went off as the last alarm and the Master froze. The Doctor kept on yelling at him, pulling at wires and requesting more tools, but the Master wouldn’t --or more accurately, couldn’t-- hear. He was paralyzed in fear. It was only a short minute later that the Doctor had the situation under control, everything was back in place and the TARDIS safely drifting through the vortex once more.

“Master…?”

_The cloister bell's chime was slowly fading away and a new sound took its place. The sound of water being drained, machines like heartbeat monitors beeping, maybe some cables being unhooked. “Please...no more…” He tried to speak, but the words came out slurred and hardly able to be even called words. Like a child fresh out of the womb, quite accurate given the situation, the Master was trying to move about and make some sense of his surroundings, crying out in distress._

_“keep him still, unhook him from the Matrix.” Someone spoke and the Master felt himself be pulled away from the warmth that had been his place of rebirth. It was all happening again. He had lost track of how many times it had happened now. Re-loomed. That was his fate now, it seemed, to be brought back to life every time he died, every time he failed, so he could be sent out again. It wasn’t meant to be like this, it shouldn’t be like this!_

_“Please just let me die…” he whispered to the one that was currently already in the process of dressing him for battle. Not even a full minute out of the loom and he was put in armour. And a minute later, he was pulled onto his feet while staggering like a newborn deer, and sent into battle. Again._

He laid curled up under a table in a room not far from the console room. The kitchen perhaps, could be a study, wasn’t like the Master paid much attention where he’d gone. That was as far as the Master had gotten once he could move his legs again. It was that damn noise, that cloister bell and the instant thought of death. Death and rebirth. No more…

“No more, no more, no more…” He whispered to himself over and over where he lay, and that’s how the Doctor found him. Vulnerable and his mind exposed like an open wound. The Master had never really told his friend what had actually happened, or given him an accurate description of what had happened to him. Some things were best to let be forgotten. Too bad he couldn’t forget.

“Oh Master…” War left its scars on everyone, the Doctor would know that better than most, but it must be something terrible to scar someone like the Master. Some nights the Doctor would be allowed to comfort him, but never once had there been questions or answers passed between them. There were some questions that shouldn’t be asked.

Little was said now as well, but the Doctor kneeled down and carefully approached the other Time Lord. It tore at the Doctor’s hearts to see him this way. The Master, who was the one constant thing in his life, the one and only thing he could always count on to return and be there... Now it seemed the Master was hardly there at all. It took some time, but eventually he managed to get the Master out from under the table but not much further than that.

“It’s okay, they can’t hurt you any more.” The Doctor whispered, but for the moment seemed unable to calm his friend who was stuck in this fight or flight mode, frozen between the two and unable to escape his own body. It had taken the Doctor some time to realise just how much of a prisoner his friend really was. It was never the TARDIS, or the life in it that was the Master’s prison. It was his very own body. The noises, the whimpers coming from the frightened man reminded the Doctor of the boy he’d known many years ago on Gallifrey who would make those noises when it was storming outside. Much like now, he would hold and comfort the boy. “Oh, Koschei…”

_“Please, don’t, not again I beg, please!” There wasn’t a number for how many times the Master had begged for it to end now. How many times was he supposed to be put in armour and sent to die before they’d let him sleep? They didn’t even have the mercy to remove all his prior deaths from his memory before dragging him back to life, so the Master had to live with the memory of every single one. He remembered the pain, the fear, the feeling of utter despair as he knew that even as it all went dark, it was not the end and that death held no peace for him._

“I just wanna sleep” were the few words the Master managed to mutter while lying in the Doctor’s arms, silently crying. Had he looked up he would have seen tears well up in the Doctor’s eyes as well, for the Master’s mind was seeping out memories, emotions and fear. The Doctor was left horrified by the images. Horrified, but also determined to help his friend back to safety and sanity. The despair he heard from the Master’s mind...not even the dying screams of a billion planets could compare to the sorrow it brought out in the Doctor.

“I know Koschei, I know. You can rest now, I’ll watch over you.” He whispered and pushed the images of the carnage he’d witnessed in the Master’s memories far away. For once the Master didn’t object to the comfort, objecting seemed to be near impossible to do anyway and he did as the Doctor told him to. The Doctor rocked him to sleep like a child and made sure to keep his nightmares at bay. “Rest.”


End file.
